Review of the musical comedy hitting the West End

It’s a story of audacious ingenuity credited with turning the tide of war – yet executed with elements of almost unbelievable farce. No wonder the mix of high stakes, bizarre plot and comic turns of Operation Mincemeat has proved such fertile inspiration for a comic musical. And in the deft hand of the SpitLip theatre troupe, it’s a joyful, raucous, success, too.

The show has thrived despite, or perhaps because, of the Colin Firth film of the same name released last year as the stage version was making its way through the ranks of fringe theatres on its way to its new home in the West End.  Both projects (and the 1956 movie The Man Who Never Was) detailed the British intelligence plot to convince the Nazis that a 1943 counter-invasion would be coming via Corsica – not Sicily, the real target – by planting fake papers on the body of an airman washed up on the Spanish coast. It was a clever ruse, but the real story is rich with ridiculous details, some of which don’t even make it in to this romp.

SpitLip see the endeavour through a very modern lens, mocking the way bright women were sidelined and the privilege and arrogance of the toffs who topped the spy organisation. ‘Some are born to follow, but we were born to lead,’ sing the ex-public schoolboys in their insanely catchy opening number.

Operation Mincemeat thrives on the mockery of the officer class that served The Goons and Monty Python so well, but with a contemporary twist. That all the roles are taken on by an energetic and multitalented cast of five regardless of gender helps to satirically emphasise the  silliness of the patriarchal set-up.

Natasha Hodgson especially revels in the blithe gung-ho spirit of unit leader Ewen Montagu, self-assuredly dismissing concerns about rigour or following the rules, which are clearly not meant for the likes of him.  Mentioning no tousle-haired recent Prime Ministers, of course, but when asked if their activities are legal, Montagu replies: ‘Good question. The answer is, of course, never mind.’

David Cumming  is the polar opposite as  Charles Cholmondeley, the mild-mannered boffin behind the plan and a nervous nerd who’d rather be studying newts than fighting Nazis. ‘I wish I was a maggot,’ he sings in his first big number, which magically rhymes ‘pupating’  with ‘stagnating’. Cumming’s is almost a clownishly broad performance, but fits in well with the zest of the whole production.

In fact, it’s nothing compared to Jak Malone as the superstar coroner (yes, really) Bernard Spilsbury, who gets his own showtune as he promises to secure just the right corpse required to make the plan work. Showing his range, Malone also later sings a genuinely heartfelt ballad as the matronly secretary Hester, pining for a sweetheart on the front line. This standout moment is a surprising but hugely effective change of tone in a soundtrack that is otherwise upbeat, taking inspiration for its tightly-written music and glorious choreography  from the likes of Hamilton, Beyoncé and boy bands.

The latter is evoked in a gleefully bad-taste routine containing the best dancing Nazis since The Producers – or Prince Harry’s stag do… a dance number that makes ‘put your hands up’ a sinister command, not a joyful celebration. Perhaps it’s no surprise to learn that choreographer Jenny Arnold cut her teeth on Jerry Springer: The Opera.

The cast is rounded out by Zoe Roberts – primarily as the humourless, pragmatic head of intelligence  Johnny Bevan, and Haselden, the hapless, desperate-to-please ambassador to Spain tasked with getting the fake documents into the right hands – plus Claire-Marie Hall as the eager and smart Jean Leslie struggling not to be dismissed as a mere typist.

Under the jaunty, super-pacy direction of Robert Hastie, the low-budget multitasking and simple but effective staging epitomises the resourcefulness and can-do spirit that hallmarks fringe theatre  – and which won us the war.

The musical may be daft, but it’s not dumb. It insults British intelligence, not the audience’s. Knowing jokes pepper the script like bullet holes in a downed Messerschmitt, including a running gag about naval intelligence officer Ian Fleming’s pipe dreams of getting his silly spy novel into print.

The hugely enjoyable mix of slapstick, satire, irreverence and derring-do is a winning formula. And nor does the script – by stars Cumming, Hodgson and Roberts, plus non-performer Felix Hagan – let us entirely forget the seriousness of the real operation, not least with a poignant tribute to the homeless man whose body became the all-important corpse ditched at sea.

No wonder Operation Mincemeat has already proved a cult success. It boasts all the ingredients to become a mainstream triumph, too.

• Operation Mincemeat runs at the Fortune Theatre  until July 8.

Review date: 15 May 2023
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Fortune Theatre